


Within Reason

by CPTAdmen



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/F, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:55:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22154392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CPTAdmen/pseuds/CPTAdmen
Summary: “By the code, I will serve you, Shepard. Your choices are my choices. Your morals are my morals. Your wishes are my code.”Shepard raised an eyebrow. “So you have to do what I say?”“wHy aRE YoU WriTinG neW FiCs iNstEaD oF FinIshInG tHe OnE’S yOu sTaRtED!?”Because my brain goes where it goes and I know, it’s been a while. Other works are still in progress, rest assured I haven’t forgotten about them. In the meantime, enjoy a short kinky renegade femshep x Samara oneshot. Maybe I’ll add more if people like it.
Relationships: Samara/Female Shepard (Mass Effect)
Kudos: 45





	Within Reason

Samara heard the door behind her open. She smiled. It was late she had been expecting the commander to come by sooner. “Shepard.”

“Evening. Enjoying the view?”

“I am. I have always enjoyed the company of the stars.”

Shepard traced Samara’s body with her eyes and hummed. “Mmm.” The door closed behind her, and she locked it.

Samara dispersed the ball of biotic energy she’d been maintaining and got to her feet. This wasn’t the first time someone had locked her in expecting an easy kill. “Shepard, I trust you have an explanation as to why you...” She stopped mid sentence, momentarily stunned. She’d been expecting a weapon, instead she found Shepard wearing a corset and thigh-high boots black as her hair, carrying a number of unidentifiable objects. Maybe Samara was the one out of place. “Shepard, if this is some sort of human custom I’m afraid I’m unfamiliar with it.”

Shepard laughed and shook her head. “No, not exactly.” She fixed the justicar with a piercing, powerful gaze. Samara was used to giving that look, not receiving it. “This is me seeing just how true to your word you are.”

Samara raised an eyebrow. At least an attempt on her life was something she was used to. “What exactly do you mean?”

Shepard cocked a hip. “You said ‘your wishes are my code.’ You said that you would do whatever I told you to. So that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”

“I also said that once your mission was complete, if you made me do anything terribly objectionable I would have to kill you.”

“Hmm. Why don’t you see what I want you to do for me first? This mission might take quite a while.” Samara shot daggers at the commander, but said nothing. This was sure to be humiliating, but she would reserve judgment on Shepard’s life. Samara had met people like her before. Strong, deadly, but cocky, and with a powerful appetite. If they really did save the galaxy she would consider sparing her.

Shepard lay her unknown cargo on the couch and then closed the distance between them. She was faster than Samara had expected, human warriors really were well trained. Her scent was oddly pleasing, the warmth from her body even more. The asari repressed an aroused shudder; she hadn’t shared someone’s bed for a very long time.

“Let’s start with something I’ve been wanting to do since I first saw you, miss justicar.” With a careful but violent motion, Shepard tucked her hands into the area where her neckline was exposed and tore her upper bodysuit away exposing her ample bust. Samara let out an involuntary gasp. Shepard hummed her approval, running her hands over the lovely exposed blue flesh. “Mhmhmm. Tell me, why show these off so much if you don’t want someone to do that?”

“My clothing was made according to the traditions of my order. It is ah!”

Shepard cut her off by gently pinching her nipple. “Yyyeah, don’t care, and don’t believe you. You wear this because you like the way people look at you when you’re wearing it. Sure, the asari recognize the significance, but every other species in the galaxy just sees these big beautiful blue tits.” Shepard explored over the backside of her suit. “Tell me, where’s the clasp or release or whatever for this?”

Samara actually felt a flush of warmth in her cheeks. “It is here...between...my legs.”

“Ahaaa,” Shepard cooed. She tucked a hand lusciously between Samara’s thighs. “Hard to find, keeps it out of the way during a fight?”

“Correct.”

Shepard’s hand had to wander a bit to find it. But eventually she did, and released it. Samara felt her upper suit slacken. “Arms out Samara,” Shepard instructed. Without much other choice, Samara obediently worked her arms out of the suit and allowed Shepard to strip the upper section completely away. “The boots you can keep on. Hmm, this is beautiful. Another part of your tradition?” Shepard remarked, examining Samara’s golden neck ornament.

“It is.”

“As nice as it is, I have a different piece of jewelry in mind. Remove it.” Samara did so, laying it beside her suit. Shepard circled around behind her, picking something up from her unidentifiable collection of items and circled around behind her. “Kneel for me.” Samara pursed her lips, but did so. Shepard smirked, she _loved_ it when someone did that for her. With slow and sensual precision, she fixed a leather collar with a silver ring around Samara’s neck, taking care to let her really _feel_ it wrap around her and become taught. “You seem fond of symbols and tradition. This collar marks you as mine. So long as it is around your neck, you are my fucktoy, and you will call me ‘mistress.’Understood?”

“Yes mistress,” Samara recited, the words unfamiliar but strangely exciting.

Shepard bit her lip and rubbed her legs together. “Now that’s what I like to hear. Let’s see what I’m working with.” Shepard knelt behind her and embraced her newly collared slave from behind. She was warm, still smelled so strangely intoxicating. This should have been filling Samara with indignation and rage, but as much as she didn’t want to admit it, this really was arousing her. Even more so when one of Shepard’s hands slipped once more between her legs.

“Already wet?” Shepard teased. Samara could only reply with a breathy simper. It had been so long, so very long since she’d been touched like this. “You don’t have to answer. In fact, let’s keep you quiet.” With her free hand Shepard picked a ballgag up from her collection. “Open up.”

Samara’s mouth was still open from her latest exhalation, but she kept it there and permitted Shepard to slip the ball between her lips. She buckled it and then resumed exploring. Just her outer lips at first, learning the shape, enjoying the feeling of her readily flowing juices. Then she went deeper, slipping two fingers into her folds. Samara moaned around the ballgag, the sensation and sound of doing so new and intriguing to her.

“Hnn, just my hands won’t cut it for me. I want to feel you from the inside,” Shepard whispered. She put a hand to Samara’s bare back and gently pushed her onto all fours. The last object in her collection fell into Shepard’s hand. It was a sophisticated sex toy called a sensecock. The user’s end connected via a mass effect field and pressed a sensation plate to her clit, letting her feel the device as though it were an actual member. It could even siphon fluids from the user and simulate ejaculation using them.

Shepard switched it on and put it into place. Then took a firm hold of Samara’s hips and pressed it against her slit. The justicar knew what came next, but what she wasn’t expecting was just how accurate and pleasant the toy felt. She moaned long and loud as Shepard buried it lovingly up to the hilt in her quim. Shepard shuddered with pleasure from the transmitted sensation and beamed. A wicked, luscious smile. Shepard hadn’t conquered anyone in a long while, and never a beautiful, powerful warrior like Samara. She slowly drew the toy out, and then pumped it forward. Again. And again. Steady, but not fast, taking care to draw out the sensation. Samara curled her toes and moaned again.

“Mmm that’s good,” Shepard hummed. She took a hold of Samara’s collar with the other hand, using it as a handle but taking care not to exert too much pressure. “Enjoying yourself, my sweet justicar slut?” Samara didn’t reply, though she continued to make a number of delighted muffled sounds around the ballgag. “Mmm,” Shepard hummed in approval, losing herself to the steady intoxicating rhythm of her hips.

Samara had lost herself to it as well. She pushed herself back against the toy, stopped fighting the new unknown pleasure that came from the gag and the collar, she was in a trance, the first one like this in at least a century.

The justicar came first, clenching her inner muscles and letting out a ragged, primal howl, trying to dig her fingernails into the metal floor. The sensation was enough to drive Shepard over the edge. The human arched her back and half-groaned half-growled as she buried the sensecock one final time in Samara’s depth and came. The toy released its reservoir, filling the asari with Shepard’s own juices.

They relaxed, and Samara slumped to the floor, enjoying the sweet bliss of release after 100 years of buildup. Shepard stretched and shut off the toy. She was tempted to go for another round, but could tell the justicar was spent. She undid the ballgag and let her pant, then took back the collar as well. Her playthings set aside, much to Samara’s surprise, she curled up around her and lovingly stroked her with a thumb.

“So tell me, truthfully, Samara. Are you going to kill me when my mission is through?”

Samara considered it, then whispered “No.”

“Well I’m glad. Because from now on whenever the mood strikes me we’re going to do this again. Different toys, different scenarios, but I like my new fucktoy. Is that all understood?”

“Yes mistress.” Perhaps it was the afterglow, but Samara’s distaste to the concept was gone. If anything, she was looking forward to it. She never wanted emotional attachment or another bondmate ever again. But this? Whatever this was...she liked it.

“Well, I’m gonna take a shower. And you’re welcome to join me. If you’re not in the mood, I’ll see you soon.” She gave Samara’s rear a kiss, then a tender bite, and left the justicar to stew in blissful afterglow, already anticipating her mistress’ next visit.


End file.
